


Hairtrigger

by Bastet5



Series: The Wild Hunt [12]
Category: FBI: Most Wanted (TV 2020)
Genre: Casinos, Claustrophobia, FBI MW: 1x03, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, School Shootings, Team Dynamics, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24313456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bastet5/pseuds/Bastet5
Summary: Early October 2019A cop's murder caught on camera.The perpetrator, a traumatized and bitter young man, brought low by his all-consuming grief and untreated mental illness.Three radicals and a plan for a mass shooting.The target: unknown.
Relationships: Clinton Skye & Original Female Character(s), Kenny Crosby & Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Wild Hunt [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678864
Comments: 46
Kudos: 18





	1. Friday, October 4: Day 1

Kateri was a devoted Catholic. She regularly attended Mass, went to confession, prayed the rosary, as much as an unpredictable job with unpredictable schedules and hours allowed. Given her job, Kateri was used to her phone buzzing with a text from Jess—the bat signal—summoning the team in to begin the hunt for the latest fugitive at the oddest and most frustrating of times. She had been with the team over four-and-a-half years, and the texts had come while she was asleep, at the gun range, in the shower, elbow-deep in soap suds washing dishes, slimey-hand from putting raw meat in the crockpot, and once—to her eternal disgust—in the checkout line at the grocery store.

Today, she could add a new one to that list: in Mass.

It was about 7:30am in the morning. Kateri was sitting in one of the back pews of Our Lady of Mount Carmel parish church, not far from her home in the Bronx, and was honestly paying more attention to the fabulous paintings and architecture in the church than to the homily. Father Marks, the parish priest and usual speaker, was ill, and his temporary replacement … well, the least uncomplimentary thing that you could say about his speaking style was that it was droning.

_Father Mark’s replacement is about everything that Father Mark’s is not in terms of speaking style and ability._

The paintings and architecture in the church were also particularly striking, at least in her opinion, for something that was not a Gothic cathedral in France. The church was a little over 100 years old, its construction completed in 1912. The graceful arches, colorful stained-glass windows, elaborate altar, and painted frescos were very eye-catching and gave much for the mind to muse on when the homily was less than attention-holding.

_I know it’s probably unchristianly, but I can’t wait for this to be over._

It was rare that Kateri actually managed to go to mass once a day as was her goal, since cases could take her away from the city for a week or more at a time. _And there’s not exactly time to stop and go to mass during the middle of a case._ Today was one of the rare days that she actually managed to make it to morning mass. She had gotten up at 5:30am to give herself time to go running and take a shower before she went to 7am mass.

_Why did Father Marks have to be sick right now?_

_I can’t wait for this to be over._

_This guy drones and drones._

_What even is the point of this homily? I certainly can’t tell._

Her mind began to wander to what was on her to-do list for the rest of the day. _I need to the grocery store, and I need to go the range. It’s also time I scrub out my coffee mug and clean the fridge, and I should do that before shopping._ A particular loud exclamation from the priest drew her attention back to the homily for a few minutes, before her mind again started to drift.

_Anything for this to be over!_

_Methinks I should go to a different parish until Father Marks is better._

_Anything to escape this one and his droning._

Kateri’s means of escape made its presence known a few minutes later when her phone began to buzz. _Thank goodness, I remembered to silence my phone and that I’m the only one on this row_. She did not want some of the older members of the congregation to give her the stink-eye for using her phone in church. If Lorenzo and Ernesta had been in church, she would have sat with them, but they rarely came to early morning mass since they had to open the shop, and she was more likely to see them in the evenings after the workday was done. _They’re also kinda used to my job and wouldn’t give me the stink-eye._

Trying not to draw attention or make accidental noise— _not the time to act like you sprayed your hands with cooking spray and fumble the phone—_ Kateri gingerly pulled her phone from the pocket of her dress pants and thumbed it open. The buzzing was not from an incoming email or a spam call, which made up the majority of calls to her personal phone that were not from her teammates, but from an incoming text message from Jess.

_We’ve got a case. We were about due for one, I suppose. Longer than usual break between ones._

_Bloody, bloody h**l. A cop-killer._

_Get to HQ ASAP. Uh, yeaaaaaaaa._

_As much as I wanted an out, not like this!!! Not like this!_

Cases with cop-killers were always the worst. There was often rivalry between the alphabet soup agencies, like the FBI, and local police departments, but in the end, they were all law-enforcement, and the death of one among any group hit the whole community hard.

_One more name for the wall._

And wasn’t that a depressing thought. On all her side-job trips to DC for work— _thank heaven that got put a stop to last year—_ Kateri had always stopped at the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial at Judiciary Square to pay her respects. Walking through the memorial and seeing the rows upon rows upon rows of names of the dead—over twenty thousand—and the flowers and photos left in memory of the dead never failed to sober her and sadden her, reminding her of the realities and costs of the job.

Kateri texted back a reply that she was on her way and then got to her feet and slipped outside to her truck as quietly as possible, which still seemed horrifically loud.

_In church, even dropping a pin sounds like clanging cymbals_.

Despite the fact that her parish church was actually farther from HQ than her apartment, Kateri was still the second person to arrive at HQ simply because she had been able to leave immediately. Only Barnes’ car was already in the parking lot when Kateri arrived. She grabbed her dufflebag— _glad I remember to keep two sets in my bag while I’m out in my duds_ —and headed inside.

_Changing into the only pair of clean clothes I have before heading straight into a case is a recipe for disaster._

Barnes’s bag was sitting in one of the chairs at the conference table, and the lady herself was just returning from the direction of her locker, finishing fixing her hair.

“Morning,” Kateri gave a half-wave with the hand that was not holding her duffle. Even if the swinging door hadn’t given her presence away, the clacking of her dress shoes would have.

A look of surprise crossed Barnes’ face as she caught sight of Kateri already dressed up. _Not surprising since 99 times out of 100, they see me in hiking boots, cargo pants, and a flannel shirt or t-shirt_. “You’re looking mighty sharp,” the older woman asked, “What’s the occasion?”

“I was in mass,” Kateri replied dryly, moving around her to get to her locker where she kept a spare pair of boots.

“Oh, dear,” Barnes replied. There was a squeak of springs as she sat down at the table.

_Sounds worse in this case than it is._

Rummaging through her bag for her clothes, Kateri noted, “I’m not … didn’t miss much today. Our parish priest is ill, and the replacement is … well, he makes watching paint dry a more interesting prospect than listening to his homily.”

There was dead silence then, because _really, what do you say to that?_ Kateri finished collecting her clothes and went off to the bathroom to change. By the time she had changed her clothes, gotten her duds neatly folded, and fixed her hair for work, Hana and Kenny had arrived.

Kenny was rummaging through his locker as Kateri returned to hers, trying to juggle her good clothes and her duffle without dropping anything or letting her nice clothes drag on the floor. _I really need an extra pair of hands … and longer arms_. His attention still half on what he was looking for in his locker, Kenny reached out one arm to grab her duffle for her and set it on the bench.

“Thanks, Kenny,” Kateri replied, voice somewhat strained. With two arms now to hold up the rest of her stuff, she was balancing on one foot to toe open the door of her locker.

“Lookin’ might fancy. What was the occasion?” Kenny asked, finally emerging from his locker with some power bars in one hand and a _hopefully_ clean shirt in the other.

_And I thought my locker was interesting._

_Yours, somedays, looks more like that kid’s from that old cartoon … oh, what was his name?? … Nate something._

“Mass,” Kateri replied, carefully hanging up her clothes and setting her heels where the leather wouldn’t get scuffed, “Was at 7am mass.”

“Oof,” Kenny winced with a dramatic face, “Talk about bad timing.”

_In most cases, yes. Not today_.

Kateri’s tone got even dryer, “Not today actually. Today it was excellent timing.”

One eyebrow crawled its way toward Kenny’s hairline. “Now those are words I’d never thought I’d hear out of you.”

With a snort of laughter and a wry smile, Kateri closed and relocked her locker, “Not words I’d ever thought I’d say either. My priest is sick, and well, the replacement was about as interesting as watching paint day, and his homily at some points was about as comprehensible as listening to Hana’s tech talk.”

There was an aggrieved shout from behind Kenny from the direction of Hana’s desk, where the tech genius herself had settled—after making coffee, of course—to start getting stuff prepped for the briefing. “Hey! I thought you liked me doing my thing.”

“I like _watching_ you do your thing,” Kateri said with a laugh, emphasizing the _watching_ part, “It’s hilarious. Doesn’t mean I always understand half of your tech speak.”

“Fair enough,” Hana acceded over the clacking of keys.

Another ten minutes passed, and still no Clinton or Jess appeared. Hana got the files printed out and handed those around to those who were already there. Slightly puzzled at where her two missing teammates were— _it is already … almost 8:30am. They get lost or somethin’. It shouldn’t take this long to get here even from the farm_ —Kateri took a seat at the conference table, propped her chin up on one fist, and began to read.

_Doug Timmons_

_Unlawful Flight to Avoid Prosecution, Murder_

_23ish … you’re just a kid. What drives a kid to this?_

_Body cam footage … helpful … I guess Hana’ll show that once the others arrive._

_Just looking at this photo, this kid looks like trouble._

The noise of the door to the garage opening made Kateri look up. _At last!_ Clinton was entering with Jess a few steps behind. Kateri and Clinton met eyes, and she sent her partner a puzzled look— _where were you?_ “Traffic,” he mouthed back. Kateri gave a sympathetic grimace. _A fact of life in New York, but still ugh._ Jess and Clinton got their bags packed quickly and then came over to the conference table so the briefing could get started.

Clinton perched on the front of the table next to his partner, facing the screens, and Kateri shoved the file she had been studying over to him.

Hana gave no introduction but simply came over from her desk and started the footage on the rightmost screen.

The body-cam footage was dated to about 10:40pm the previous night. Will Clement, the slain officer, was seen pulling to a stop at the scene of a two-car fender-bender on a dark, two-laned, tree-lined road. _Definitely would work as a setting for something horrid in a stereotypical horror movie_. After Clement smelled alcohol on the other driver, he got him situated in the back of the patrol car and then went back to talk with Timmons, who was protesting the treatment of the driver who had actually hit him. _Odd_. Clement asked Timmons for his license and registration and then started looking through Timmons’ trunk, the lid of which had been damaged in the collision. Timmons was heard loudly complaining about his Fourth Amendment rights and Clement’s violations thereof. When Clement turned back from his search to ask Timmons again for his license and registration, Timmons shot him without hesitation three times. _Overkill much?_ The DUI driver was then also killed and _again overkill much with the number of shots?_

Kateri could not help but flinch slightly as the fatal shots were fired. A Kevlar vest could not protect you from everything. _Can’t protect you from head, neck, or thigh shots either._

“Doug Timmons in action,” Hana declared, “Killed Officer Will Clement of Loudonville PD and then killed Peter Bateman, the guy who rear-ended him, and drove off in Bateman’s car.”

“What was wrong with his?” Clinton asked, exchanging the file in his hand for his coffee cup.

_Good question._

“The truck wouldn’t close after the accident,” Hana explained.

_Can work around that. Get some rope and something long that you can fake-transport._

“Threw the Loudonville cops for a loop,” put in Kenny from over by the lockers. He was finishing packing his bag for the trip, having gotten sidetracked making coffee while the team was waiting on Jess and Clinton, “Took them till this morning to get a BOLO out on the right car.”

_Interesting._ Kateri made a face. _Was Timmons smart enough to think of that? Or did he switch cars simply because of the trunk? I’ve seen cars in worse shape than just a broken trunk on the road before_. _I hope it’s not the former. Smart crooks are the worst._

“Timmons used armor-piercing ammo. It went straight through the officer’s vest,” Hana continued, glancing around at her teammates.

Kateri winced and exchanged a very concerned look with her partner. _Oh, bloody h**l. Just what we need._ A fugitive with armor piercing ammo sent the danger-level for this mission up several notches. Kevlar was one of their main lines of defense, but against armor-piercing ammo … _bloody_ _h**l_. Everyone would have to be extra cautious on this mission.

“He wasn’t fooling around,” Barnes noted, “He was looking for a showdown with authority.”

_Timmons definitely is trouble_. Kateri agreed. _He’s a twitchy dude. He‘d give me the creeps on a dark night if I passed him on the street_.

“Play back the search of the trunk,” Jess asked, speaking for the first time. He’d been sitting quietly starring at the screen, his head on one hand, his thinking face on.

Hana tapped a few buttons on her tablet, and the footage restarted as Clement returned to Timmons’ car after stowing the drunk in his car. Kateri studied closely the view of the trunk, trying to discern what, if anything, seemed to have caught Jess’ attention.

_Looks like regular stuff in the trunk, albeit a huge mess._

_Clothes, car stuff, cardboard box._

_Nothing that striking, I think_.

“Freeze it,” Jess requested, and the video was paused, framing the view of Timmons pointing his gun at Clement about to fire the fatal shots. “‘Never there when we need you,’” the boss mused, getting to his feet slowly, “Maybe law enforcement let him down, or he thinks they did. Any record that he’s a crime victim?”

“I haven’t found anything yet,” Hana replied, “No criminal record either.”

One eyebrow crawled towards Kateri’s hairline as she mulled that over.

_What on earth triggered this guy?_

_Unless you have mental problems, most people don’t go around shooting cops without provocation_.

_It’s stupid. You’ll get every PD in the area after you and more than a few alphabet soup agencies._

_If you’re a low life anyway, cop killing is bad for business, as Billy always says._

_I’ve got a bad feeling about this case._

“He moved out of his last known in Kobe Smith 8 months ago,” Hana continued, “with no forwarding address. Social Security shows no work. No social media presence at all,”— _odd in someone of his age_ —“Completely off the grid.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Jess said dryly.

_Not in the slighest_.

Kateri snorted, “That’s an understatement.” _Antisocial, sounds like. No job. Transient. I could clock him as trouble from a mile away just looking at him._

“Any family?” Jess continued.

“No marriage, no kids. Dad died when Doug was 6. Mother had a stroke when he was 17, moved in with her sister in Arizona. We have her place and phone on surveillance. I haven’t found any siblings for Doug.”

The ringing of Barnes’ phone cut through the room and drew the attention of the others. Barnes grabbed her phone and stepped away to answer it.

“Something about the cop looking in the trunk set him off,” Jess mused quietly, half to himself. _Yea, but what?_ “Kenny, Clinton, and Kat, go over that car. Let’s find out what Timmons is worried about.”

Assignments parceled out, everyone started gathering their stuff to prepare to leave. Kateri pushed away from the table, making sure not to run into or over her partner who was also getting up. Clinton grabbed his duffle which was sitting by his locker and grabbed Kateri’s also for her. She had left it there earlier to keep it out of the way and out of the walking path.

“Loudonville cops said they found nothing of internet,” Hana noted.

“We have different interests,” Clinton and Kateri said at the same time … unintentionally. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the two grinned, and the others snickered.

The four of them filed out of the meeting room and headed towards their respective cars. It was a two-and-a-half-hour drive north to Loudonville, and they needed to get moving.

* * *

The long drive passed quickly. Between what was looking to be a messed-up case and non-work stuff, there were no shortages of things to talk about to fill up the hours, and neither had a problem with comfortable silences to pass the time, either.

_If I were tired, I could also just take a nap._

_Despite getting up at 5:30am and only having one cup of coffee, I’m surprisingly awake_.

It was about 11:30 when the team arrived in Loudonville, and everyone split to their respective first tasks. Kenny switched cars to ride with Kateri and Clinton to the PD impound center, while Hana went on to the bus. A pall seemed to have settled over the town as the team drove through. Loudonville was a small town … technically, a hamlet … of only 10,000 or so people, and the violent death of a cop hit everyone hard.

_Get small towns and everyone knows everyone, or so it seems_. Many people they see seemed just a little more wary … _the where is the crazy dude going to show up next feeling … like in DC/VA back in 2002 with the snipers_.

The officer who buzzed them into the impound lot bore a black ribbon over his badge and was almost over-eager to help. _Anything I can do to avenge my buddy_. Kateri was glad when they were finally able to get him out of the way so that they could work.

Timmons’ car had been towed by the police to the impound lot. Kenny took the front and back seat, on the slim chance the car was not quite as old as it looked and actually had something technological—like GPS—worth investigating, and Kateri and Clinton took the trunk, one of her least favorite jobs. The trunk already had been rifled through, they knew, but _we have different interests than the local PD_.

The two slipped on gloves, and Kateri took one side and Clinton the other.

_It’s bad enough having to clean out my own apartment somedays._

_Digging through other people’s junk and dirty laundry …. gag._

“There’s not much here,” Kateri said after they had sifted through everything quickly, “Looks like the contents of a teenager’s closet … or locker.”

“Why don’t you get the boxes from the car. We’ll pack this up and go over it in detail again at the bus,” Clinton requested.

Kateri nodded and headed off back to their SUV to get the evidence boxes from the trunk. While she was doing that, she heard Kenny holler a status update from the front of the car … he’d found zilch, too.

_Great, so much for this idea. Maybe the PD were right about there bein’ nothing interesting_.

* * *

Sometimes returning to the bus after an absence was extremely strange. Walking into the midst of ongoing conversations where the others had gotten updates you hadn’t … there were often the _what in all the bloody blue blazes did you say?_ and the _what on earth is going on?_ feelings spawned by such returns.

Such it was again today, as Kateri held the bus door open for Kenny and Clinton to carry the two boxes full of junk from Timmons’ car inside. Hana was there, and so were Jess and Barnes, having returned from whatever they had split off to do, and they were in the midst of a very odd conversation.

“Here’s what we pulled from Doug’s car,” Kenny declared, setting down the first box on the table to the left of the bus door.

“I think Doug wants to take apart the government, not be a part of it,” Hana declared, fingers flying over her tablet and gaze focused down on it.

_Waittttttttt, what??_

_Be a part of the government, Timmons._

_How’d that idea come about?_ Kateri was sure that the three of them had missed something important while they had been absent at the impound lot.

Hana was still talking, “I finally found where he’s been lurking on the internet on a site called Friction.”

“Sounds like porn,” noted Barnes, straightening from where she had been perched on the edge of the table and came over to help look through the evidence boxes.

_Very weird, icky porn_.

Kateri slipped on another pair of gloves and started helping Kenny go through one box, while Clinton and Barnes worked on the other box.

“Close,” Hana replied, “It’s a video game,”— _an X-rated video game???_ —”gamers talking about games. I found Doug in a discussion group about a defunct game. Basically, it’s just a cover-up for anti-government whining.”

“Whining or planning?” Asked Jess pointedly.

_What in all the bloody blue blazes did we miss?_

“No plans,” Hana sighed, “They just hate on the government and talk about guns. It’s all about protecting your home when Big Brother comes to take it from you.”

_It being the guns or the home?_ Kateri wondered. _And they wouldn’t be doing either without a good reason, which makes me wonder more about what you did, then BB did._

After the second round of sifting, there still seemed to be nothing interesting or informative to the case at least in Kateri and Kenny’s box. Everything seemed like regular stuff.

_It’s like he just dumped the contests of a backpack or duffle straight into his trunk._

“Big Brother can have my crib,” Kenny put in sarcastically, dumping the batteries out of a flashlight and peering into its depths, “along with the rent and the leaky toilet.”

_Ewwww. Ugh. Poor you._ Kateri hadn’t heard that bit before, not that she could recall, at least.

“It puts a different spin on what he was doing in Albany,” noted Jess, his head propped up on one hand, “Might have been scouting targets, government buildings, government workers.”

“What’s this about Albany?” Kateri asked, twisting around to look over at the boss. She thought she was following reasonably well, but _the cliff notes version of what had happened to prompt all this talk about Albany would be really nice_.

“We found a last known for Timmons off the tip line,” Barnes explained, still shifting through the other box of stuff, “The land lady said that Doug seemed to want a government job in Albany and that he went there from time to time for job interviews.”

“Timmons? Work for the government? I wouldn’t believe that on April Fools.”

There was an answering snort of laughter, and then Clinton added, “There’s nothing here. Just dirty laundry, toiletries …”

“Same in this box,” Kateri added, “Nothing here stands out or says ‘I’m a psycho and here’s where I’m headed next.’” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

“And a can of men’s body spray,” Following on from Clinton’s last statement, Hana leaned over from her work station to grab one of the containers Clinton had pulled out of the second box of stuff and asked, “What’s the deal with this stuff anyway? Do you guys use it after a shower or instead of a shower?”

“Now that’s getting’ a little too personal,” Clinton deadpanned.

Kateri snickered. _Clinton for the win with the one-liner of the day._

They were finishing up the sifting of the stuff and starting to pile stuff back in the boxes, when Barnes found a small laminated card.

“Mass card from a funeral,” she noted. _Okay, that’s slightly more of interest than laundry, trash, toiletries, and junk, but how does that help us?_ “Spencer Givens, Clifton, PA. The day Doug moved out of his room.” She handed the card to Jess. _Okay, something else we missed_.

“The day he told his land lady that he was losing everything.”

* * *

With a few searches from Hana’s speedy fingers, the team discovered the address for the late Mr. Givens as well as the name of his wife. Barnes and Jess left for Clarks Summit, PA, to interview Mrs. Givens, but it was a three hour-trip one way, so they would not be back before dinner time. Clinton, Kateri, Hana, and Kenny remained in Loudonville with the bus to keep on chasing down what leads they had and filter through what intel was coming in through the tip line.

_I hate the tip line_.

Around 4pm, Jess called with an update and some intriguing new data. (The two of them were on their way back.) They had discovered that Doug Timmons and Spencer Givens had both attended Pocono Pines High School and survived the school shooting there back in 2013. _I think I remember hearing about that_. The two had hid in the same location, and Doug had actually kept Spencer from bleeding out from a bullet wound. Aside from the shared trauma, the two had nothing in common, Givens’ wife had said. Despite his chronic pain, Spencer hadn’t been the self-pitying, blame-others type … like Doug, who believed that Big Brother had the power to stop school shootings … but refused to do so. _Which makes no sense._

More worryingly, Ms. Givens related that Doug had told her at the funeral that he “would make sure that Spencer would be remembered.”

_Now I feel slightly sorry for him and am a whole lot more worried at the exact same time._

Coming out of a person like Timmons, the pronouncement that “X Person would be remembered” promised … trouble, lots of trouble, with a side of people dying, probably.

_No, actually, I pity him, not feel sorry for him._

_No kid should have to go through something like that_.

About half-an-hour before Barnes and the boss were due back, Clinton took dinner orders. Instead of sandwiches, it was pizza on the menu for the night. _We need all the running around to burn off this junk food,_ Kateri noted to herself for the umpteenth time in the past several years. Whatever place he was going to did individual size pizzas, and thus each one of them was allowed to order whatever kind of pizza they wanted.

The pizza orders were, as always, as eclectic and eccentric as the team members themselves. Clinton always had pepperoni pizza. Kenny like Hawaiian pizza, though Kateri was of the mind that he liked it, in part, because Hana always squawked and, like a boy, Kenny liked to mess with her. Hana also liked pepperoni pizza but with added mushrooms and extra cheese. Kateri herself liked veggie pizza with ham added.

After a quick dinner, they returned to work, and the four of them updated Barnes and the boss on what they had learned about the 2013 Pocono Pines shooting while the two had been driving back.

“Pocono Pines High School, a 17-year old student with an AR-15. 12 students and 2 teachers dead, plus the shooter himself,” Hana recited the information off of her tablet in a flat voice, “20 people were wounded.”

Kateri had heard the recitation before, seen the reports herself, and still shuddered again.

_Shooter opening fire in a crowded hallway with an AR._

_Unless there’s something else with a gun to try to fight back, you’re sittin’ ducks_.

_No room to move_.

“No doubt Doug was traumatized by the shooting,” Jess noted, climbing to his feet. _Who wouldn’t be?_ “And Spencer’s death could have sent him over the edge. He would have been on an emotional hairtrigger.”

“First cops on the scene at the school,” Clinton added, taking the tablet from Hana and tilting it quickly so Kateri, who was sitting next to him, could read over his shoulder if she wanted to, “waited for reinforcements before confronting the shooter.”

“That was the strategy back then,” noted Barnes.

_Yea, and up against an AR, it’s understandable. If I were a beat cop, I wouldn’t want to go up against a guy with an AR, but if there were kids in danger, I’d still take my chances._

“He could harbor a grudge against law enforcement” Jess mused, “for not intervening sooner.”

_Kid probably wouldn’t be wearing body armor, so all you need is one well-placed shot._

Kenny, who was sitting at the desks on the opposite side of the conference table, turned around, pausing his reconsideration of the body cam footage from the previous night, “He’s hot off the funeral, runs into a cop, and then kaboom.”

_Yep_.

“Hey, Kenny,” Jess turned towards him, “bring up that body cam footage from the trunk.”

Kenny punched a couple of keys, and the footage of Officer Clement searching the trunk of Timmons’ car started playing on the big monitor up on the wall. The footage looked exactly the same as the last several times Kateri had seen it, but Jess noted something new.

“Can you freeze it for me?” He asked suddenly. The video paused, view focused on a pile of dirty laundry including a rather hideous green-and-gold shirt. Jess moved to lean over Kenny’s shoulder, “Yea, that’s it now. Can you blow it up just in here?”

_Oh, bloody h**l_. Kateri finally realized what Jess had seen: Timmons’ school jersey from Pocono Pines. _Wait, hold up …_

“The school jersey, I don’t remember that being part of the inventory for the car.”

“Because it wasn’t in the car,” Kateri noted, speaking for the first time in a while. She had slouched enough to be able to prop her head up on her fist, her elbow resting on one of the arms of her chair.

“He must have taken it with him when he took off,” added Hana.

“Maybe it had sentimental value?” Mused Clinton.

_Over a piece of clothing?_ Kateri understood sentimental attachment to other things, like books or pictures or mementoes, but clothing, she didn’t get.

“Or he didn’t want anyone to be able to see it,” replied Jess.

“Could be why he flipped,” Barnes proposed, leaning against one of the walls, fingers tapping on her coffee cup, “when the cop looked in the trunk.”

“Because he didn’t want to give away what he was planning next?” Jess wondered.

_But what would his jersey give away?_

_I guess we’ll find out_.


	2. Saturday, October 5: Day 2

By the time the team had been able to draw those new conclusions Friday evening, it had grown too late to do anything or to return to Pennsylvania for more investigating until the next day. The team got two hotel rooms—a splurge—about midnight and got a short night’s sleep. After breakfast, the team headed out again, making for Pocono Pines, with one of their support staff driving the bus to join them.

It was late morning by the time everyone arrived in Pocono Pines. Jess and Barnes headed straight to the high school to speak with the principal of the school about Timmons, while everyone else got set up in the bus.

The two returned within an hour with lunch, disturbing news and video about Timmons, and a new lead. Pocono Pines High School held a yearly memorial service, an assembly of the whole school, in memory of those who had died during the 2013 shooting. Until 2017, Doug had attended those services faithfully, but in 2017 Doug had actually spoken at the assembly and subsequently been barred from those meetings by the principal for saying offensive stuff.

Aside from possibly harboring a grudge against law enforcement, Doug also blamed the government for the shooting, believing that the government allowed school shootings to happen to keep America’s youth in fear. _Unbelievable!!_ Doug had even found a supporter for his view, an alumnus named Earl Hanson, who had actually threatened to sue the school for violating Timmons’ free speech rights.

_There’s a nut in every crowd._

“If Timmons is a threat to the school,” Kateri mused as the briefing was winding down, “It wouldn’t be to the students.”

Barnes nodded in agreement, quickly swallowing a mouthful of coffee, and then added, “This is Timmons’ version of ‘Wake up, America.’ He’s trying in his own way to help the students.”

“That’s disturbing,” said Hana with a grimace, wiping greasy fingers on a napkin.

Kateri snorted, pulling her legs back quickly out of the aisle to let Kenny pass toward the fridge— _more food or more coffee?_ — “If anyone at Pocono Pines High School is at risk from Timmons, I’d put the principal at the front of the line. It was his actions that kept Timmons these last couple years from warning the students of all this mess,” she wiggled her fingers in vague reference to all of his crazy views, “Timmons wants Spencer to be remembered, but I could see him thinking that the principal is keeping him from that.”

“Which is we are going to put agents on the school and on the principal,” Jess concluded, “For now, track down Earl Hansen. Here’s everything in his alumnus file.” He pushed a file across the table. “Barnes and I are going to have a look at these videos.”

Everyone scattered to their respective tasks. Hana and Kenny were still on the hunt for Timmons, which included the infamous tip line, while Kateri and Clinton split up the work of tracking down Hansen. They moved their computers down to the other end of the bus to give them a little space from the TV screen and the noise.

The videos the team had gotten from the principal started the year after the shooting and continued up to 2017, when Timmons had spoken and subsequently been banned from speaking. The droning of most of the speakers, Kateri could tune out as she searched non-police/legal stuff about Hanson—Clinton had any and all police reports and legal complaints—but Timmons’ grieving rantings grated on her nerves and made her wish for headphones like Hana’s.

Finally, Jess paused the video— _ah, blessed silence_ —and noted soberly, “He has a point about children growing up in fear.”

 _True, but the fault doesn’t lie where Timmons is putting it._ Barnes started to reply, but Kateri missed whatever she was saying when her partner’s phone started to buzz. Kateri paused her work and glanced over to see what was up. Clinton only said a few words, but she could tell from the look on his face that whatever the news, it wasn’t good.

Clinton hung up the phone and leaned back so he could look down the bus toward Jess. “Just located Earl Hanson,” he began,

_And I’m guessing it isn’t his home or work addresses that I just found …._

“Not where you’d think.”

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time of this revelation. The addresses Kateri had found for Earl Hanson ended up being useful after all, just not for the reasons originally planned. Earl Hanson had been found dead by police in the woods near Loudonville. It was clear that he had been shot.

_The question is just why and by whom._

Hanson’s home was about an hour away, and Kateri and Clinton with Barnes and the boss headed out immediately to talk to the man’s widow, hoping that she might have helpful intel. Kateri starred out the car window as her partner drove, musing on how messed up the case was.

_No kid should have to go through something like that._

_No kid should have to plug a bullet wound with his own fingers to keep his buddy from bleeding to death._

_It’s no surprise that Timmons’ a bit messed up in the head … almost certainly has PTSS after a trauma like that._

_But blaming the government, blaming law enforcement for all this … saying they want kids to live in fear. Sounds more like a weird conspiracy theory_.

 _His grief for his friends, for the life that the shooting changed forever, took away, perhaps, … it changed him … twisted him_.

Grief was a funny thing and one that Kateri was no stranger to. In horrible situations like this, grief was absolutely appropriate ... up to a point. The problem was how much and for how long. When left unchecked, grief could tear you apart mentally and emotionally, have serious physical consequences, and … in the case of Timmons, drive you to horrible things.

_Life just deals you a bad hand sometimes, and that’s just life._

_And since we’re adults, we have to deal with whatever gets thrown our ways._

_When you get that bad hand, you’ve got a choice: let your grief and your anger and vengeance consume you or pick yourself up and keep on going._

At the Hanson house, Kateri and Clinton stayed outside to make some calls, while Barnes and Jess went inside to talk to Marie Hansen. The two partners had been outside less than ten minutes when Clinton got another call from the Loudonville PD: Earl Hansen had been killed with armor-piercing bullets.

 _Timmons_.

Kateri closed her eyes and groaned, “Bloody h**l. Why would Timmons murder one of his main supporters? That doesn’t make any bloody sense.”

“Not to us, assuming it was Timmons,” Clinton noted, “Come on. We’d better let Jess know.” He squeezed her shoulder gently and gestured for her to precede him toward the house.

Jess and Barnes were in the kitchen when the two entered, sitting at the table with a small, blonde woman in a floral dress. _Mrs. Hansen_. The poor woman was distraught and looked like she had just had the worst shock in her life, _which this probably is_. Kateri could not imagine what it would be like to get the news out of the blue that your husband was dead. Barnes was helping her place a call to someone.

Seeing them appear in the doorway, Jess came over to meet them.

“Loudonville PD confirmed that Earl Hansen was shot twice with armor-piercing bullets,” Clinton spoke quietly.

Jess nodded and returned to the table. Clinton moved a few steps further into the kitchen and leaned up against the counter. _I guess we’re staying then_. Kateri moved over to stand next to him, their shoulders brushing.

“Mrs. Hansen,” Jess asked sitting back down, “Is there any chance your husband could have been with Doug Timmons today?”

Kateri let one part of her mind wander while the others talked. _Assuming for the sake of the argument, it was Timmons that shot Hansen. It’s interesting that he’s still using armor-piercing bullets._

“Doug Timmons, what does he have to do with this?” Mrs. Hansen replied, voice shaky, face puzzled.

_I understand why you’d use armor-piercing ammo against a cop and even against the drunk guy in the cop car, but against a regular Joe … It doesn’t make sense._

“We’re not sure. We thought Earl and Doug were friends,” Jess noted.

_Hansen wouldn’t have been wearing body armor, would he?_

Kateri pulled her phone out of her pocket, opened a note-taking app, and typed out a quick question for her partner:

*Hansen wasn’t wearing body armor, was he?*

Kateri nudged her partner gently and then tilted her phone so he could see the screen. Clinton looked down and then over. He shook his head.

*How many shots?*

Clinton extended two fingers.

_Hmmm…_

“They went hunting together,” Mrs. Hansen explained with a roll of her eyes, “The two of them and this other man, Mike … something … I don’t know his last name. He lives around Albany.”

Barnes and Jess exchanged pointed looks at the mention of Albany. _Interesting. Bet that’s not a coincidence._

“Is there anything else you remember about Mike?” Jess pressed gently. The team needed every shred of intel they could get. The body count was rising, and they needed to find Timmons fast. “Maybe something your husband said?”

_The manufacture, importation, sale, and delivery of armor-piercing ammo is heavily regulated. One wonders how Timmons got some in the first place._

_If he had a limited supply, you’d think he’d be more sparing with it—I would._

_Which begs the question, how much does he have, and where did he get it?_

“He has a foreign wife,” Mrs. Hansen looked less than pleased by that fact, “She used to cook for them when they went hunting. He’d bring back leftovers, weird foreign stuff, like meat jelly.”

The discussion of weird food drew Kateri from her thoughts and back more toward the present conversation.

 _Meat jelly, ughhhhhhh_.

“Holodets,” Clinton put in.

_And that tells me nothing more than ‘meat jelly’ does._

Jess and Mrs. Hansen both turned towards Kateri’s partner. Kateri herself glanced up at him curiously, wondering how he knew that.

“Yea, that sounds right,” Mrs. Hansen replied quietly.

“It’s a kind of Ukrainian Aspic,” Clinton explained.

_And what is an Aspic? Meat jelly, it sounds disgusting._

_Who puts food in gelatin anyway? Ick._

Mrs. Hansen’s phone began ringing with a call from her brother Mike, and she left the room in a hurry to answer the call in private.

“So now you’re an expert on Ukrainian food?” Asked Jess. Kateri could not tell if he was amused, being sarcastic, or was actually bothered by something.

“I had a friend from the Ukraine,” Clinton shrugged.

“Another friend you haven’t told me about?” Noted Jess, and Kateri suddenly remembered some previous interchanges between the two on similar themes, including the one at the nursing home during the Tyson case.

_Is Jess actually bothered, or am I misreading him?_

“You didn’t ask,” Clinton replied. _Welllllllll … what do you say to that?_

Jess sighed and turned back towards Barnes, “Mike from Albany with a Ukrainian wife. Let’s get Hana cookin’.”

_Pun intended?_

* * *

It was past 5pm by the time the team got on the road back to Pocono Pines, and though the drive back to the bus was not really any longer than the drive to the Hansen place, it sure seemed longer for some reason. Kateri let her mind wander back to the problem of Timmons and his armor-piercing ammo. That he had the ammo at all was problematic because it made the hunt much more dangerous for the good guys, but … there was potentially one upside.

Armor-piercing ammunition was extremely regulated by the powers that be, and federally licensed dealers had to keep records of their transfers of that kind of ammo.

_We’ll know from the coroner’s reports on Clement and Hansen what caliber ammo Timmons is using._

_If we start talking to dealers in New York and Pennsylvania, might we find out anything helpful_

“You okay, kid?” Clinton’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Hmmm?” Kateri drew her attention and gaze back into the car. Her mind had been a million miles away, and she had been starring absentmindedly out the window.

“You’ve been pretty quiet. Everything okay?”

Kateri gave herself a slight shake. She had been doing too much sitting and was starting to feel sleepy. _Haven’t had enough coffee either_. “I’m fine. Was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Timmons and his armor-piercing ammo. I understand why he used it on Clement the other day, but not why he used it on Hansen. Given the regulations on armor-piercing ammo, I would have thought he would have had a limited supply, but if he’s using it on regular Joes, I’m starting to get concerned about how much he might have,” Kateri summarized her thoughts from the last little while in a few quick sentences.

“That’s a good point,” her partner acknowledged, “and one I hadn’t thought of. Talk to Jess once we get back to the bus. That’s probably worth looking into while we try to find this Mike and his Ukrainian wife.”

Due to a few poorly timed traffic lights and one unfortunate fender-bender, _not us thankfully_ , Kateri and Clinton arrived back at the bus ten or fifteen minutes behind Jess and Barnes. The search for Mike and his Ukrainian wife had already started, but someone had recently made a coffee run, and there was fresh coffee waiting for both Kateri and Clinton, which made her want to hug someone.

Kateri called a thanks to whoever had brought the coffee and then looked around for the boss. Her partner was just sitting back down at his desk. She saw Hana, Kenny, and Barnes, but not the boss. _Simple solution for that_. “Where’s the boss?”

“Back here, Kat,” Jess himself called. He was sitting at the small, two-person table at one end of the bus, which was why Kateri hadn’t seen him, since the wall hid him from sight.

Coffee in hand, Kateri joined him, dropping into the other seat at his nod of permission. “I had an idea.”

Whatever the boss had been doing, Jess put it aside, took off his glasses to clean them on his shirt, and motioned for her to continue. Trying to make sure that the words coming out of her mouth were as clear as the thoughts in her head— _not always so easy_ —Kateri laid out her ideas about Timmons, Hansen, and the armor-piercing ammo quickly.

She wrapped up by noting, “I don’t know if tracking this down will get us anywhere, but I don’t think it could hurt, and with Hana tracking down Mike, for the rest of us it’s basically coaming the tip-line or twiddling our thumbs.”

“It’s a good idea,” Jess nodded agreement, “Look into it. See where it leads you.”

_I always like it when my ideas make sense to someone besides me._

“Thanks, boss.”

Kateri rose from her seat and headed back down the bus toward where her partner was sitting working. Clinton raised a questioning eyebrow as she took a seat by his side.

“Have a go, he says,” Kateri said quietly, trying to be considerate of all the others trying to work in a very confined space. Lots of people working in the same area not only meant that it was hard to hold private conversations but also that it was more difficult to find peace and quiet to work without a pair of noise-canceling headphones.

A deep dive into the coroners’ reports, ballistic reports from ERT, and detailed photos of the death wounds and shell casings followed. That information, especially the specific caliber of the bullets, enabled her to start tracking down the manufactures and the sellers of those types of ammunition. The work was slow, but progress was made.

After some time had passed, a hand gently tapped her shoulder, drawing her from her work, and a water bottle and a sandwich were set next to her computer. Clinton retook his seat next to Kateri. _I hadn’t even noticed he had left_.

Kateri stopped typing for a moment and looked over at her partner. “Did I miss the dinner call?” She asked.

“You were tuning out the world,” Clinton replied, “And I know what you order anyway.”

“Thanks.”

Kateri went back to typing for a few minutes before the food was pushed more toward her computer in a clear warning. Clinton gave her a pointed look. _Yes, yes, I’m stopping_. Kateri gave him a fond smile and rolled her eyes, pointedly pushing her computer away to stop and eat.

The team worked until nearly midnight, and by that time good progress had been made, but the fruits of that progress would have to wait until the morning to be put into effect. Despite only having a few pieces of information to go on, Hana had worked her magic and was making progress in tracking down Mike from Albany with the Ukrainian wife—she had actual full names now, Mike and Lena Kellerman and had managed to find two former addresses for them.

 _I still think Aspic sounds like a type of mountain goat_.

Kateri had made some good progress, as well, on her ammunition investigating, a search that had slowly expanded over the hours from simply armor-piercing ammo to purchases by Timmons’ and his buddies of ammunition generally. New York state law made her job easier because, starting in 2013, background checks were required for ammo purchases in all commercial transfers.[1] She had not found much on the armor-piercing ammo front, but she had put in requests to the appropriate powers to see the background checks and the purchasing reports of the ammo purchases by Timmons and his buddies from regular dealers/shops.

_I’ll work some more in the morning and then update the boss._

_Hopefully those reports’ll come in by morning._

It was late enough and everyone was tired enough that no one wanted to bother taking the time to get a hotel room, and it was decided that everyone would just bunk down in the bus for the night. Everyone drew straws, and Jess and Hana got the beds.

Clinton and Kateri made their makeshift beds in the aisle on the far end of the bus from the bunks. It was colder outside, but it was warm enough in the bus that Kateri could use her fleece jacket as a pillow, her leather jacket as a blanket, and still not be cold with only her shirt sleeves on her top half. She was so tired that she was asleep within minutes after she lay down.

* * *

[1] <https://lawcenter.giffords.org/gun-laws/policy-areas/hardware-ammunition/ammunition-regulation/>.


	3. Sunday, October 6: Day 3

Kateri startled awake from a nightmare some hours later when a hand shook her shoulder. Her heart was beating fast, and the wisps of her dream were already fading from her mind, and the only sense of the nightmare she could get was something about an office building and crocodiles.

 _A regular crazy nightmare, not a flashback kind nightmare_.

It was still nearly pitch black in the bus, and from the noise most everyone else was still asleep. The hand on her shoulder which had shaken her awake was her partner’s. Kateri could just make out the outline of his face in the darkness. He had pushed himself up on one elbow and reached across the aisle but hadn’t spoken since there was too great a risk of waking the others. Noise drifted too well in the bus, and there was no background noise to cover talking.

_Why was I dreaming about crocs?_

_Weren’t their crocs in the documentary I watched on Nat Geo last week?_

_Whatever. Sometimes I hate my brain_.

Knowing Clinton would not be able to see much if anything of her expressions in the darkness, Kateri, who was lying flat on her back, reached up one hand to squeeze his wrist in an “I’m okay” gesture. There was a slight answering squeeze, and then her partner lay back down.

Kateri resisted the urge to check the time on her watch. Her old watch had gotten smashed on the pavement during a scuffle in a mission the previous month, and she had splurged and gotten a digital watch with a backlight, which was _a little more clunky but a lot more convenient._

_No, don’t go checking the time._

_You’ll keep yourself awake._

_Who cares what time it is?_

_Close your eyes, and go back to sleep_.

The others were starting to stir when Kateri woke the next time, and a few of the smaller lights had been switched on. She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked around. Her partner’s bed was missing, so he was already up and somewhere. Hana was just emerging from the bunks, and Kenny was just pushing his jacket off of himself and sitting up.

 _We youngins’ got to sleep an extra few minute again, I guess_.

Jess returned to the bus a few minutes later, slipping his phone back into his pocket, and Barnes and Clinton returned ten minutes later with breakfast and coffee! Kateri had convinced herself to move by that point and had returned to her desk and was getting her computer booted up.

_Lots of new emails._

_Yay!_

_Maybe something helpful in all this morass._

Kateri took the lid off of her coffee with one hand to let it cool, clicked open the first email with the other, and started scanning through it. Then she went on to the next email. And the next. And the next. She was half-way through her oatmeal and had just picked up her coffee to take a sip when she started reading through the NY database report about Timmons’ ammunition purchases.

It took only moments for the seriousness of what the report was saying to sink in.

“Oh, bloody, bloody, bloody h**l,” Kateri exclaimed in surprise, eyes going wide. Her hand shook with the force of her start, sloshing hot coffee over her hand. Her swearing then took on a new tone.

_Not good._

_Not good._

_So not good._

Her right hand aching, Kateri struggled to set her coffee down without dropping it. Napkins were tossed over to deal with the mess, and a cold compress from the fridge was brought over to help with the minor burn on the back of her hand.

 _Bloody, bloody h**l_.

 _Towards my hand and this whole bloody situation with Timmons_.

Once that excitement was over, Kateri had to explain what she had just read. “I wasn’t finding a lot by just looking at armor-piercing ammo, so since New York gun laws make my job easier, I expanded my search to cover all ammo purchases by Timmons, Hansen, and Kellerman over the last year. It’s not good, really, really not good.”

_As in extremely not good._

_And I’m not exaggerating by adding all the ‘reallys.’_

Jess raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to explain.

Tucking her wounded appendaged under one arm so she did not physically have to hold the cold pack on her hand _… and thereby freeze the fingers of my other hand off, since I really need my left hand undamaged_ , Kateri explained, “Large purchases by all of them of 9mm and .45 ammo. Concerningly large. Too much for even someone who spends hours at the range weekly, I’d say, and I spend a lot of time at the range. Whole lot of .223 and 5.56 ammo, too. Some could be explained by their hunting, but not this much. I’d say they’re stockpiling for something big.”

 _Like a mass shooting big_.

“The trips to Albany for ‘government work’ could have been a cover for scouting targets,” Kenny mused, “Multiple assault rifles and long rifles use that ammo.”

“We need to find them and fast,” Jess noted, face going grim, “Hana, what do you have.”

* * *

Hana, in fact, had hit the jackpot during the work over breakfast, finally finding a current address for Kellerman. At the same time, she had also found the address for a nearby butcher shop, which was possibly where Lena Kellerman did her shopping for the ingredients for her meat jelly stuff.

The address for Kellerman was near New Paltz, a small town of about 7000 people about 50 miles from Albany, NY. The team reached New Paltz mid-morning and set up a stakeout on the butcher shop, hoping that Lena Kellerman herself might appear. Appear she did just before 11am. Kateri remained in the van with Kenny and Clinton as Jess and Barnes headed inside.

“Sure, you don’t want some more medicine?” Kenny asked skeptically when he noticed Kateri occasionally flexing her aching right hand, which was wrapped in loose gauze.

Kateri had refused to take anything more than a low dose of ibuprofen for the pain back at the van, a couple of hours before. “I might take another one in a couple of hours. It’s not that bad.”

“Then why do you keep flexing your hand?” Asked Clinton, raising one eyebrow.

_Yes, of course, you noticed me doing that!_

“Because having my hand wrapped in gauze feels weird,” Kateri replied. It was something similar to the urge to not want to use a finger with a band-aid on it.

Within a few minutes of going in, Jess and Barnes emerged escorting a rather exotic looking, dark-haired woman that had to be Mrs. Kellerman. She was handed over to care of agents from the Albany field office, and then the two collected Hana and headed over toward the other SUV.

_Almost a stereotype for the exotic woman that lures away husbands._

_Could see why Mrs. Hansen was a little bothered. She’d be bothered even more if she saw her._

There was an impromptu briefing in the parking lot. Both Timmons and Kellerman were currently at home. Mrs. Kellerman had admitted as much, confirming what her extremely full shopping basket had indicated. As soon as backup could arrive from Albany, an hour north, they would raid the Kellerman place.

* * *

The Kellerman place, on the outside, looked like a typical … dwelling … out in the middle of nowhere. There were three buildings on the extremely large lot: a house, a barn, and shed of sorts. Not wanting to alert those on the property, the FBI agents stopped their cars some distance out and continued the rest of the way on foot. There was no movement visible as the team with SWAT for backup approached the buildings. Hana and Kenny had been assigned the house, Jess and Barnes the barn, and Clinton and Kateri the shed thingy with SWAT dividing into three to back up each pair.

The house was breached first, and shouting almost immediately erupted from the building. Someone was inside. _Please let it be Timmons_ , Kateri thought to herself as she approached the shed, one step behind her partner and off his left shoulder. Her bandaged right hand held a tac light, while she kept her Glock in her left hand. _One of the many times in life where I am so thankful to be left-handed._ It was only a minor burn (first-degree), but it still ached a little sometimes.

“This is Lima 1. Suspect Timmons is MIA,” Jess’ call came over the radio right as Clinton and Kateri breached the shed.

She allowed herself a quick _bloody h**l_ in response and then forced her focus back to the shed. SWAT officers for backup at their heels, the two agents cleared the small room with quick, practiced movements, checking in small nooks and crannies and behind the piles of stuff.

At the back of the shed was a metal door leading to another room, a door bolted shut with a large padlock. Thankfully, one of the SWAT officers with them also carried a pair of bolt-cutters with him, and the officer carrying those tools was sent forward, while the three covered him. The four then took up positions on either side of the sliding door opening, Clinton and a SWAT officer on one side, Kateri and the other SWAT officer on the other.

 _I wish I knew their names_.

Clinton extended three fingers and started the countdown. On three, the doors were pulled sharply open, and the room inside was clearer swiftly. It was empty of anyone and everything. The weapon’s cache that Mrs. Kellerman had indicated was in that room was gone.

 _Bloody h**l_.

“Sierra 1, weapons are gone,” Clinton called over the comms, turning toward the door. Holstering her gun, Kateri turned to follow.

_So we’ve got one nut-case, but not the prime nut-case with the body count, who got away with all the weapons and the cache of ammo along with it._

_Just perrrrrffffffffffeeeeeeeccccccccctttttttttt_.

Clinton split off toward the house, while Kateri, hearing over the comms that Jess and Barnes, had found a cache of documents, headed towards the barn … after telling him she was going to the barn. Misplacing each other in the field was not high on their list of things to ever do again.

“Boss,” Kateri called as soon as she got to the door of the barn, not wanting to startle her two teammates, “I heard something about a cache of docs.”

“In the back,” Jess called, voice drifting from behind crates and piles and racks of stuff.

Kateri carefully wound her way to the back of the barn, gingerly watching every step, not wanting to step on any of the lose stuff or on any of the loose diestrus scattered across the floor. _Just what you’d need, step on a nail and need a tetanus shot._

Jess brandished several pages as soon as he saw Kateri appear out of the shadows, “State government building in Albany.”

“Agencies, employee numbers, emergency protocols, hotel data,” Barnes added, “Target profile for a mass-shooting event.”

 _And he’s got enough guns and ammo to start himself a nice little war_.

“Bloody h**l. I had a feeling after seeing that data this morning, but I had hoped to God I wasn’t right,” Kateri exclaimed, “Let me see?” She extended a hand to the folder.

Jess handed over the file, and Kateri flipped through it quickly, scanning through the pages upon pages of horrifying data. Pictures, floor pans, neatly organized pages upon pages and tables upon tables of data, covering every possible shred of planning necessary for carrying out a mass-shooting with a very large body count.

 _A very well thought out mass-shooting_.

_If I were to take leave of my senses and my morals, I’d almost have to think how to do this better._

Kateri frowned. _This doesn’t seem like Timmons’ work. He seems more like the impulsive doer type, than the planner type_.

“What are you thinking?” Jess asked once all of the documents had been regathered and the three agents had stepped outside.

“That doesn’t seem like Timmons’ work,” Kateri said cautiously, gesturing with her chin toward the case of documents, “He doesn’t seem like the brains of this operation, not from anything we’ve learned about him, not from any of the psych profiles. Maybe that’s Kellerman’s work, but I’d lay good money that it’s not Timmons’.”

_If it’s not Kellerman’s, we’ve got an even bigger problem._

_There could be a fourth person we don’t know about_.

* * *

The next stop was the Albany Field Office, an hour away. With both Mr. and Mrs. Kellerman now in custody, the team needed to question them, Mr. Kellerman especially, and try to figure out were Timmons might be going next, what he might be trying to do next, especially since the plan for the government building shooting was now bust.

Considering that Kellerman had the air of a pig about him, Clinton and Kenny paired up to question him, while Jess and Barnes took Mrs. Kellerman. Hana disappeared off somewhere to do something, but Kateri settled down on the hard floor in the hallway that led from the interrogation rooms to wait and think. There was nothing more to be gained from her ammo theory for the moment, so she tucked her right hand that still ached a little, pulled out her work phone, and started going through non-theory and non-case related work email that had been accumulating for several days while she hadn’t had time to deal with it.

_Junk._

_Paperwork. Therefore, later._

_Training. Blech. Also, later._

_Why in all the bloody blue blazes did I get CCed? BCCed? on this?_

_That’s just dumb._

_Somebody from upstairs is actually asking my opinion on a case? Who thunked them over the heads so that they got a modicum sense? Oh, wait, it’s not my unit. Thank bloody goodness. The others would have a cow otherwise. They can wait until this case is over. Don’t have bloody time for this now whoever’s asking._

_More junk._

_More training … scratch that. The other is actual useful training. This is just plain stupid._

_Also, paperwork. Definitely later. … I hate paperwork._

_More junk_.

Despite her repeated vows to herself to keep her inbox close to empty and her email organized, Kateri’s email usually ended up like her locker. Clean and neat for a little while, and then entropy took over.

_I clean it up, and then it gets messy again._

_And then I clean it again. And it gets messy again._

_And the cycle repeats. And repeats. And repeats._

About the time Kateri was starting to consider switching over to her personal phone to start clearing those inboxes, her teammates emerged from their respective interrogations. Clinton paused at Kateri’s spot long enough to give her a hand up off the hard floor, and then they all gathered up the hall where there was room for all five of them to stand and talk for a few minutes _without blocking the aisle and making everyone else trying to work and get around us hate us._

“There’s no evidence linking Kellerman to Hansen’s murder, but the AUSA can hold him for harboring a fugitive,” Clinton told the boss.

_Considering the bullets, it was probably Timmons that pulled the trigger._

_Those three were together a lot, but without one of them confessing, we’ve got no clue if all three of ‘em were together when the murder went down._

_Hey, at least that’ll keep one sleeze-ball off the streets for now._

Jess nodded, “Tell her to pile it on. We don’t want Kellerman bailing himself out. Same for the wife.”

_Don’t want her tipping off Timmons or anyone else we might not know about but don’t wanted tipped off anyway._

Clinton departed to make that call, and Kateri turned to follow him for lack of anything better to do or place to go, but Kenny caught her arm before she could leave. There was the tiniest hit of a smirk curling up the corners of his mouth, and a look of mischief was in his eyes. Shooting him a questioning look, Kateri allowed herself to be tucked under one arm and guided away to a quiet spot.

_I know that look._

_He’s got a story he’s going to die if he doesn’t tell._

“Sooooo,” Kenny drawled, “Kellerman’s calls himself a sovereign citizen.”

Kateri made a face, curling her lip with a small shudder.

_They’re a pain in the neck to deal with._

_Talk about the urge to throttle someone_.

_I’d be a bloody lot more willing to listen to them if their ways of making their points were a whole lot different._

Once he saw she was following, Kenny continued, the smirk on his face growing, “So Kellerman was going on and on and on about how he didn’t need a lawyer, because we didn’t have authority to question him.” His voice changed to a somewhat passable approximation of Kellerman’s voice, “Your Bureau is run by the deep-state in violation of the Constitution.”

 _Between his expressive face and his mimic ability, Kenny is the greatest storyteller_.

_‘In violation of the Constitution.’_

_Oh, no. He didn’t._

_Oh, dear_.

Kateri slapped one hand over her mouth to muffle a sudden rush of laughter. _Don’t ever start spouting law codes wrongly with Clinton in the room_.

Somehow Kenny’s grin grew even wider until it was almost Cheshire-like. “Yep, that was a mistake, so of course, Clinton doesn’t miss a beat. Deadpan voice, ‘Actually the FBI is authorized under Title 28 of the US Code Section 533 enacted by Congress under authority granted by Article 1, Section 8 of the Constitution.’ That shut Kellerman up for a moment,” Kenny crowed with delight, “You should have seen the look on his face. His jaw almost hit the floor.”

 _I have the greatest partner in the world_.

Kateri tucked her forehead against Kenny’s shoulder and laughed and laughed and laughed until she almost cried. “I wish I could have seen that,” she forced out through her gales of laughter, “Did Kellerman cooperate after that?”

Kenny wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rested his very pointy chin on the top of her head, “Nah. Started going on and on about Common Law, Admiralty Law, and how we’re enslaved, blah, blah, blah. Seeing his face, though, almost made listening to all that worth it.”

More information from the interrogations was revealed once the team got back to the bus. Despite the difficulty with Mr. Kellerman, his wife had been quite helpful, especially after she was shown the picture of the dead Earl Hansen. (Apparently the two kinda had a thing, or she had thing for him, or something.) She revealed that her husband had only known Timmons for three months or so and that the two had met at the Big Valley Casino in Erie, Pennsylvania.

_Something’s hinky with that picture._

As Barnes had noted, reiterating whatever everyone already knew, Doug was barely scraping by. There was no way on earth he had enough money to gamble at a casino.

_So why was he at a casino then?_

_And how did Timmons and Kellerman meet in the first place?_

Those points reemphasized an earlier question: Did someone introduce the two?

_Is there a fourth person? More evidence to think so now._

_If so, we’ve got a big problem: an unknown fourth whom we know nothing about._

The answer to that question would have to wait until the next day. Erie was a 6-hour drive from Albany, the jet was still in New York City, and it was growing too late to do more that night.

_Tomorrow, hopefully, the new lead’ll pan out._


	4. Monday, October 7: Day 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have helped me catch typos in this story and others. I do proofread and edit these things, but sometimes small things escape my eyes. Sometimes I just see what I expect to see and just miss things. So thanks for the assistance!

The fourth day of the hunt for Doug Timmons dawned bright and early. Barnes and the boss left early to take the jet to Erie, Pennsylvania, to investigate the connection of Kellerman and Timmons to the Big Valley Casino. Kateri and the others remained in Albany to keep working on any other angles and any other tips.

Their absent comrades returned just after lunch with very interesting news.

The connection seemed to be a waitress named Molly Werner. She had previously worked on the casino floor near the poker tables before she had gone back to college. She had been identified as Kellerman’s favorite waitress and had herself admitted that she was Doug Timmons’ half-sister. _Ugh. There’s always a crazy one in every family you don’t want to talk about_. The two, she claimed, had not kept in touch for years, but Molly had noted that her brother was not a violent person and had been against guns ever since the shooting at Pocono Pines. _And yet he’s shooting people!!_ Barnes noted that Molly had seemed extremely frustrated with her brother’s habit of spouting anti-government to rhetoric to anyone and everyone, including those who really did NOT want to hear what he had to say.

_I certainly wouldn’t want to hear it no matter the spouter’s relationship to me._

Molly, however, had denied introducing her brother to Kellerman and claimed the two always came in by themselves. There was just one major problem with her story. She had purported that Kellerman was always in the restaurant, where she was now working, because the slot machines in there gave higher payouts. Jess had noted that was bogus. _If she’s lying about Kellerman, what else could she be lying about?_ The question at hand was why did she lie. Did the two have a thing? Did they have other common interests? _Like shooting people and terrorist plots?_

Once the impromptu briefing was finished, Jess told Kenny and Hana to start surveillance on Molly’s phone as well as a work-up on all of her communications with anyone, “We’re looking for a direct link between her, Doug, and Kellerman.”

“So we’re thinking that Kellerman got tired of his wife’s cookin’?” Kenny asked slightly puzzled.

Kateri, who was sitting in the other half of the bus, looked up from her laptop where she was starting a profile of Molly based on what they knew so far.

_Cheating is another thing, but I wouldn’t blame him if he got sick of the literal cooking._

_Meat jelly, blech. I’ll eat a lot of things, but gelatin, especially with meat in it, is disgusting._

“I don’t think so,” the boss replied with a shake of his head “It’s not about sex. Doug’s politics are about his trauma from the school shooting.” He started pacing the length of the bus, passing Clinton and Kateri as he did so, “Kellerman’s the one spouting a mainline domestic terrorist agenda. Kellerman might have radicalized Doug.”

_Kid that young. Not the most stable mentally. Highly influenceable. Definitely a good possibility._

“Attacks on government buildings, mass-shootings,” Barnes added.

_Twist the facts enough, spin whatever you’re saying in the right way, and even what is antithetical to your previous belief can start lookin’ like a good option._

_Kinda terrifying how rhetoric can be used._

“Doug’s reactive,” Jess turned and started pacing the other way again back towards Barnes and Kenny, “He’s unstable on his own, and he’s influenced by whoever’s nearby. I think it would have been easy for Kellerman to activate him to violence.”

_Kid almost certainly has PTSS. Probably never treated._

_Not surprising Doug’s off his rocker._

“And somehow Molly’s part of it,” Clinton swiveled towards the others.

 _Somehow being the key word_.

“Well,” Jess turned to look at his brother-in-law for a moment, “she certainly knows more than she says she does.”

 _Big brother complex, here we go again?_ Kateri turned back to her work, but then Hana added some intriguing information, which made her look up again.

“It’s hard to tell from her profile,” Hana’s voice drifted down the bus, “She’s a college student majoring in history”— _like I did, though I did Criminal Justice, too_ —”she lives on campus, has no criminal record, not even a traffic ticket, but there’s one tiny gap.”

_What do you mean by ‘a gap’?_

To most outward appearances, Molly seemed like a hard-working college student, trying to work to put herself through school, trying to keep her head down and avoid the notoriety that could come with being known as Timmons’ sister, but her lies indicated that there was more going on.

 _The profile’s getting complicated_.

Kateri pushed herself to her feet, stretched the kinks out of her back and shoulders quickly, and went over to see what Hana had found.

“There’s no record of her attending high school,” Hana was continuing, puzzlement leaking into her voice.

_Then how did she get into college? Would have missed a lot of those ridiculously necessary standardized tests as well as missing a whole lot of required classes/knowledge._

_Not that some of those tests do much beside show how well you can a take a ridiculous test, but still …_

“That’s pretty cool,” Kenny put in, a mischievous look in his eyes and tone in his voice, “If I knew high school was optional, I would have enlisted even earlier.”

_Keeennnnyyyyy! Really?_

Barnes gave him the look— _is the stereotypical Mom look something you just learn automatically when you have kids?_ —and Kateri rolled her eyes and bonked him on the head as she went past. There was too little room for him to duck out of the way, and Kenny sent her a fake-hurt/aggrieved look.

“She was living with Doug back then, and he went to high school,” Hana continued, “but she didn’t. She just fell of the radar after 8th grade.”

 _About the time of the shooting_. Kateri stepped back to allow Jess room to look at the records Hana had brought up. One hip bumped hard into the conference table straight behind her, and Kateri stumbled with a wince of pain, but a hand caught her elbow. Kateri sent her partner a grateful smile. _When did he move? He was still at our work station a minute ago_.

“Right after the shooting at Pocono Pines,” Jess verbalized what Kateri had already been thinking.

 _Definitely not a coincidence, I’d say_.

* * *

Finding out more about Molly, her mysterious high school disappearance, and the causes for that disappearance would necessitate a trip back to Pocono Pines, three hours away. Jess and Barnes left to deal with that, sending the others on with the bus to Erie.

The trip from Albany to Erie was just under six hours, but between work and the size of the bus, being stuck in the bus with several other people for six hours did not usually make people go stir-crazy, drive them up the wall, or (for Kateri) induce a claustrophobic-induced panic attack.

_Thankfully!_

The trip was almost half over, and Kateri had just gotten up again to stretch the kinks out of her back … again— _Mother would so hate my posture. She’d have fits if she saw me slumping_ —when Clinton’s phone rang. It was Jess with an update. The two had finished at Pocono Pines Middle School, discovered some very interesting information that put a new spin on the situation, and were on their way to join the others in Erie.

Molly, Barnes and the boss had discovered, had left public school in the middle of the eighth grade. _Ugh, that’s complicated, though not quite as bad as moving schools in the middle of the grade_. After the Pocono Pines Shooting, her family had decided to homeschool her because Mrs. Timmons said that Molly was too afraid to come back to school. _Even though the shooting was at a completely different school? A little odd_. _I guess if it can happen at one, it can happen there, too._ What was more concerning was that the principal had revealed that Doug himself had been the one to frighten his sister so badly, convincing her that life was too dangerous, not just that school was dangerous. After their mother died, Doug had gotten himself emancipated and had taken custody of Molly, and the girl had looked up to him, believed every word out of his mouth, believed his every action was to protect her.

_Guardian angel, explains Jess’ mention of the weird mug from Doug’s old place._

_Traumatized big brother and impressionable younger sister._

_Sounds like a prime situation for abuse … or manipulation._

_Bloody h**l, this is so messed up!_

_Add in Kellerman. Start to wonder who was manipulated and who was the manipulator. Doug was manipulating his sister but also being manipulated by Kellerman maybe?_

Jess and Barnes reached Erie late in the evening not long before the time Molly would be getting off her shift at the casino, and they went to the casino to confront her, stopping just long enough at the bus first to pick up Kateri and Clinton.

The four agents had been waiting in the parking lot less than fifteen minutes when a small young woman, small-framed and somewhat shorter than even Kateri herself, appeared from the direction of the casino and started walking into the parking lot. She seemed distracted and lost in thought and actually walked right past the SUV and the agents standing next to it without noticing them. Instincts bred during years of undercover work made Kateri shudder in fear.

_Not pay attention to your surroundings is a good way to get yourself mugged, raped, or killed._

“Molly,” Barnes called, and the girl turned back, “We need to talk.”

“I have a paper due tomorrow,” the girl protested, “I told you what I know.”

Kateri and Clinton hung back by the SUV, letting the other two, who had already met and interacted with Molly, do the talking. Kateri liked it that way anyway. It gave her plenty of time to study the girl without having to be distracted by having to keep up her side of the conversation at the same time.

 _You told us some of what you know, and you also lied about some of it, so nice try_.

“We don’t believe you did, not about Doug, not about Kellerman,” Jess pushed back hard.

“Kellerman is a perv,” Molly countered.

Kateri gave a quiet snort of agreement. _An abuser and a perv with a fondness for exotic women._ Barnes had mentioned the bruises on Lena’s arms, and Kateri herself had had the misfortune to cross paths with Kellerman back at the farm before he was taken away to the Albany Field Office. The look on his face when he saw Kateri as Kenny marched him out of house was … _ew_ , and Kateri had almost felt undressed, despite her multiple layers of clothing. Kenny, bless him, had gotten Kellerman out of the way as soon as he noticed the side-eying going on, and Jess, _also bless him_ , who had been there at the same time, had just simply stepped bodily in between the two, breaking Kellerman’s line of sight as soon as he had seen what was going on and noticed Kateri’s unease.

“And Doug, he’s a baby,” Molly was still going on, an exasperated look on her face, “I got tired of looking after him. I don’t care what happens to him.”

Kateri’s eyes flew up towards her hairline, and even Clinton looked momentarily startled. _Now that does not jive one whit with what we learned about you today. Want to try again, honey?_

“You don’t care about your guardian angel?” Jess asked, pulling out his phone and showing her a picture. _Probably that mug_. “Didn’t you give him this?”

For a moment, Molly seemed stunned into silence, but then she replied, “It’s just a cup.” _Too casual. You’re covering._ Her reply had been just a beat too slow in coming. _First rule of lying. Don’t hesitate._

“A cup you made for your big brother who protected you, kept you safe,” Jess pressed the point home firmly, “and now you think, you’re protecting him.”

There was a long beat of silence where Molly just starred at them, and then Jess spoke again, “Molly, if you don’t stop lying to us, you’re just going to get him killed.”

Her response was more than little disturbing. “You don’t get it,” she hissed, though her voice carried on the clear night air, “I have to take care of him. He’s so broken, so helpless.”

Kateri, who was leaning on the SUV next to her partner, added in an undertone so low that only Clinton could catch what she was saying, “Scratch my earlier thoughts, I think we might need to revisit who’s manipulating whom.”

* * *

The team took Molly back to the bus for further questioning, hoping that between the further questions and the surroundings it might give her a kick in the seat of the pants into cooperating and … not lying.

 _I’d certainly be intimidated if I were her age and her at the moment_.

Back at the bus, Molly was directed to the small conference table at one end of the bus. The wall was just a little way behind her back, and the agents gathered around her, Barnes at the other end of the table, Kenny and Hana at the desks on her left, and Clinton and Kateri on her right.

“I’m not trying to excuse what Doug did,” Molly repeated, “I’m just asking you to remember that Doug is a crime victim, too.”

_Now you’re back to looking out for Doug, humanizing him to the cops so what … we feel sorry for him? Don’t hurt him?_

_Could you, at least, try to be consistent and less suspicious?_

“We know what he’s been through,” Barnes said calmly. _Soothingly?_

“You don’t know,” argued Molly, a depth of emotion in her voice, “He put his finger in his friend’s bullet hole to stop him from bleeding out. An experience like that changes you.”

_Oh, honey, you’re surrounded by a roomful of FBI agents._

_We might not have had to deal with that specifically, but I can assure you that we’ve seen enough similar horrible things to give you nightmares for the rest of your life._

“It does,” Jess agreed from the kitchen area where he was making himself another cup of disgustingly sweet tea, “It’s called PTSS. He experienced a trauma, and now he’s hyper-vigilant. He sees danger where there is none, and he reacts.”

_And two of us in this room have it. Trust me, we understand._

When Molly just sat there starring at him for a long moment, Jess continued, retaking his seat at the table, “Doug’s extremely dangerous. We think he’s protecting a bigger plan that he’s cooked up with Kellerman and another friend Earl Hansen, a plan to kill government workers in Albany. What do you think of that? Hmm? He’s out there with guns and ammunition. We need your help to bring him in.”

 _I’m almost slightly impressed by that blank face of hers_.

Molly’s lip then quivered slightly, and her voice almost shook, “You’re going to kill him.”

_Ah, so you do actually care? Can you just be consistent?_

“Not if we can help it,” Jess shook his head.

 _The only way you get off the Most Wanted List is if you’re dead or captured, but we prefer captured alive so that the dead can have justice_.

_You can’t put a dead person on trial … except in the court of public opinion, and that doesn’t count._

Jess settled back into his seat, and from the look on his face, Kateri got a sense he was about to do something else very Jess of him. “Molly,” he said, “I want you to take a look around. I brought you hear so you could see what Doug is up against.”

 _So we’re finally turning this into a dog-and-pony show. … That really is a strange phrase_.

 _Note to self: look up the origin of that phrase … later_.

“We have hundreds of agents, state police of New York and Pennsylvania,” Barnes added, getting in on the program.

The look on Molly’s face was interesting.

“High tech Google doesn’t even know about,” was Hana’s contribution.

Kenny leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so he could look Molly straight in the face, “Your brother could call from Mars, and we’d know about it.”

_Is that a slight hint of fear I see?_

_Are you finally getting the drift?_

“And that guy right there,” Jess pointed a finger at Clinton, who turned his head, features impassive to look at Molly, “He can put a bullet in the middle of a silver dollar from a hundred yards.”

 _And I’ve seen him do it, though it was not a literal silver dollar_.

The finger shifted toward Kateri. _What’s the boss going to say about me? This should be interesting._ “And then there’s her, she has contacts across the Tristate area. You can’t hide, not from her.”

 _Welllll, kinda, but you never asked, boss, if I actually have contacts in this area_.

Molly outwardly looked like the enormity of the situation and of the odds facing her brother were finally hitting home.

_Good._

Jess leaned forward, putting his arms on the table, “After the shooting, he kept you at home. Was he afraid for you?”

Tears started to trickle down Molly’s face. _You’re a good actor. I’ve got to give you that, kid._ Given her previous lies, Kateri was taking every word out of her mouth, every action, every look with somewhere between a grain and a bucket of salt. “He made me feel safe,” Molly said, “and loved.”

_Also, another weird saying. Should look that up, too._

_English has really weird sayings._

“Okay,” Jess replied, “And you did the same for him. When he was hungry, you could have just given him a doggy bag and sent him on his way, but you let him hang around.” Molly nodded, as Jess finished, “He needed you. You’re the only person who can get through to him, Molly. You’re the only person who can bring him in safely. Now, will you help us?”

Finally, Molly nodded, “What do you want me to do?”

“No more games,” answered Barnes. _That’ll be a good start._ “That’s the first thing.”

Molly nodded.

“If he calls you,” Jess added, leaning back in his chair and staring at the girl seriously, “you try to talk him into turning himself in.” He paused for a long moment. “We’ll be in touch with other ideas.” He picked up his tea cup and rose, “One of the agents will see you back to your car.”

Molly rose, wiping her eyes, and was escorted out.

Once the door had clicked shut behind her, Barnes turned to Jess, “I wouldn’t give you a donut hole for that girl’s cooperation.”

Kateri snorted agreement, and Jess added, “She didn’t exactly convince me either.”

“Waste of a good dog and pony show,” Clinton noted dryly.

 _For one liner of the evening, partner, you win, ‘specially with that delivery_.

Kenny tossed a tablet onto the table with a thunk, “She’s been lying to us from the get-go.” Hana reached across to look at the tablet. _Phone surveillance/search thing must have come back_. “Texts to and from her phone after we raided Kellerman’s. She gets a text, ‘They got Mike.’ Second one, ‘Can’t do this on my own.’ She sends a text, ‘I’ll help you.’”

 _Oh, bloody h**l_. Kateri groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“He’s gone from enabler,” said Barnes with a look over at Jess, “to co-conspirator.”

“To do what?” Hana asked, puzzled. _That the question of the hour._ “Doug left behind his plans for Albany and lost his co-conspirators, Kellerman and Hansen.”

“Maybe he’s looking for another target,” mused Clinton.

 _Which would probably mean we’re back at Square #1 trying to figure out what that target is_.

 _Bloody h**l_.

“Molly can’t say no to her big brother,” Jess said slowly. _Big brother complex strikes again_. “We can’t change that, but maybe we can get them to say yes to the right targets.”

Kateri and Clinton exchanged puzzled looks. Sometimes Jess did this leap of logic thing and left the others trying to follow. _Get them to say yes how exactly, boss?_

“Hana,” Jess continued, “show me what’s coming up for Big Valley Casino.”

A few minutes searching revealed that there was a Department of Revenue event coming up at the casino in a few days. The plan for getting the two siblings to say yes to the right targets would involve both Kellermans, necessitating Lena’s help to trick her husband. That would have to wait until the next day, because it was growing so late.

“You know, boss,” Kateri drawled once that issue was dealt with, “you never actually asked me if I have any contacts in this area.”

“It didn’t really matter for the point I was trying to make,” Jess noted with a wry smile, “but do you?”

Kateri grinned, “Yes, actually, though most of them are mainly centered in Buffalo and come down here for business, pleasure, or … gambling. Let’s see …” She closed her eyes and started counting them off on her fingers, “one intel-trader, one back-room dealer who knows a whole lot of other people, three people with gang ties, and one mob boss who owes me a favor.”

“A mob boss who owes you a favor?” Kenny’s voice was strangled, his eyes wide.

_The look on his face!_

“Yes, actually. It’s an extremely long story,” Kateri replied dryly.

_What’s even more convenient is that he owes me a favor, not one of my aliases._

_A long story that’s a story for another time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kateri's comment about a mob-boss owing her a favor is inspired by an episode of Numb3rs called "One Hour."


	5. Tuesday-Thursday, October 8-10: Days 5-7

Jess, Barnes, and Kenny left early for Albany the next morning, the jet having been brought to Erie overnight. The boss’ plan rode on Lena Kellerman’s willingness to turn on her brute of a husband for the sake of avenging Earl Hansen’s death. While wearing a wire, Lena would then get Mike to say the right words so that Kenny could jumble those words and create a fake message to feed to Molly, who would hopefully feed it to her brother.

 _It’s like the Gilman case last year. Kenny and his splicing_.

The three returned mid-afternoon, and by late that evening (on the fifth day of the hunt), when it was coming towards the end of Molly’s shift, the fake message from Mike was sent off. Day 6 and most of Day 7 of the hunt passed in exactly the same, monotonous way, watching Molly and tracking her movements and waiting to see whether she and Doug would take the bait.

“What’s our girl up to?” Jess asked, reappearing in the bus early in the evening of the seventh day, not long after dinner. He had finished eating first and had disappeared outside to make a call to someone about something

“Same, same,” Clinton replied, swiveling his chair toward the door, “Serving food and cleaning dishes.”

_Same song, umpteenth verse, a whole lot louder and a whole lot MORE BORING!_

_I hate being on security camera doing. It’s almost as bad as the tip line._

Kateri thought to herself from her seat next to her partner. She had probably been watching more security cam footage in the last couple days than she had in the last several cases combined.

“The kitchen messed up a desert order,” Kateri added, scrubbing fingers through her hair and then across her face, “She spent her break eating pie.” Clinton and Kateri had the cams that covered the kitchen area, part of the floor, and the back areas, including the break room.

“The Department of Revenue event starts in an hour,” Jess said dryly, “And she’s eating pie?”

 _I’ve been asking myself the same question_. Kateri shrugged, spreading her hands in the universal “who the h**l knows?” gesture.

“Crosby would,” Hana teased, turning in her chair to send Kenny a mischievous look.

 _Yeaaaaa, he probably would._ Kateri turned back to the cameras, giving herself a shake. _I need more coffee_.

“We’ve had eyes on her the last two days, and she hasn’t veered one bit from her routine,” Barnes summarized the puzzling situation simply.

 _Which doesn’t fit with the profile_.

“You sure she got the Kellerman message?” Jess asked, looking over at Kenny, who was sitting at the other end of the bus from Kateri, Clinton, and Barnes.

“Positive,” Kenny replied, “Listened to it, and then deleted it.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the bait,” Barnes wondered.

_Not sure that’d fit the admittedly kinda confusing profile either._

“It’s possible,” Jess admitted, “Her regular shift ends at what, 7pm?”

The last question was directed at Hana, who replied, “I’ll check. Scheduling software is an easy hack.” _An easy hack, generally, or an easy one for you?? Because you make a lot of uber-complicated computer stuff look like child’s play_. Hana bent over her tablet, and her fingers went tapity-tap for a few moments. “Her normal shift ends at 7pm, but she booked a double tonight until 2am.”

Kateri’s head snapped up in surprise at that. _What in all the bloody blue blazes? Definitely doesn’t fit with the profile._ That was the question Kateri was sure all of them were now wondering: why was the diligent college kid who didn’t want to work late nights suddenly working late nights? _Liars lie?_

“When did she book this extra shift?” Jess asked, brow furrowed, as the others exchanged puzzled looks and concerned frowns.

“She picked it up … three days ago,” Hana replied after a few more taps.

 _Before the whole sting with Lena and Mike and the splicing got started_.

“Before we sent her the Kellerman message,” Clinton noted, unknowingly speaking his partner’s thoughts aloud.

There was a long beat of silence, and then Jess spoke slowly, sorting his thoughts out at the same time as he spoke, “The only government function at the casino for the next two months … if we thought of it, she thought of it.”

_Bloody h**l._

_Didn’t think of that._ None of them had until now.

 _I hate it when the criminals out think us_. People died when that happened. _Could die_.

“Call casino security,” Jess continued, “I want all the footage from the last week cued up and ready to go by the time we get there. She didn’t take the bait, because her and Doug already had this plan in the works. They’re ahead of us.”

 _Bloody h**l_.

Even as Kenny was placing the call to casino security, computers, the remains of dinner, and coffee were all abandoned. Bags and guns were gathered, and the team hurried out.

* * *

Within twenty minutes the team was ensconced in the security room at the casino and working through a backlog of data. For a little while there was nothing new to be found in the hours upon hours of old footage and nothing new to be seen on the current security footage of Molly going about her shift as per usual.

“She’s in no hurry,” Barnes summarized, “Getting desert orders and chatting up the kiddies.” She was the main one watching the current footage.

Kateri, who was starting to feel a touch claustrophobic in the small room full of large pieces of furniture and full of people, was helping her partner go through old footage.

_Distraction’ll help for now._

_Might have to get relieved if this goes onto long and nothing happens_.

“I hope we’re wrong,” Jess muttered to himself, pacing back and forth across the length of the room, “How we doing on last week’s footage?”

“A week in the life of a waitress,” Hana replied somewhat sarcastically, “It’s like watching a documentary of a former me.”

_Now that would be an interesting story to hear._

_Can’t imagine you as a waitress, Hana_.

“Okay, she’s going towards the bathrooms,” Barnes called out the update.

Kateri’s eyes snapped up and over, before she forced herself to refocus on her task at hand, to make herself pay attention despite the unease prickling across her skin like an array of little needles poking her. _Keep it together. There’s still work to be done._

“Cameras in the bathroom?” Jess asked.

The casino security chief shook his head, “Not the steak house bathrooms. I’m going to have to open up the fountain area.”

 _Not yet!!_ Kateri hollered in her head at the same time Jess verbalized the same thing. _There’s too much at risk._

“Got something!” Clinton exclaimed. Kateri pushed her chair over so she could see the footage her partner had found.

“Alright, you keep an eye out for her,” Jess instructed Barnes and then moved over to see the new discovery.

Tag-teaming between the different cameras that Clinton and Kenny had, the break the team needed was finally made. The footage was from Saturday evening. Molly had taken a room service tray up to the fifteenth floor. There was only one wrinkle to that. Floors 14 and 15 of the casino were supposed to be closed off due to fire damage pending renovations. There was no camera footage from that floor, and no rooms on the floor should have been occupied for weeks.

_Perfect place to hide. Nobody else up there. No one looking for you there._

_Bloody h**l_.

_Could hide under our noses for a long time._

“She’s feeding him,” Jess said, “That’s where he has to be, fifteenth floor. She come back from the bathroom yet?”

“Haven’t seen her,” Barnes replied, shaking her head, “Family of five are still waiting for their deserts.”

Jess looked at his watch, prompting Kateri to look at hers also. It was 7:48pm, and the government function would be starting soon, very soon. Molly wasn’t coming back. It was show time now for better or for worse.

“Fifteenth floor,” Jess declared, “Clinton, call in the SWAT team.” To the security chief he added, “I want the entire fountain area clear. I want everyone inside.”

* * *

The SWAT Team was already on short-order standby and would arrive very quickly. The team passed what time they had quickly getting kitted up and armed for the raid. Everyone knew the utter seriousness of the situation. Timmons was unstable. Molly was a loose cannon. Considering the wide array of ammo that Timmons and his cohort at brought, the team had to assume that Timmons had multiple guns in his possession as well as enough ammo for a large-scale firefight. Against his armor-piercing ammo, furthermore, the agents’ body armor wouldn’t stand a chance. Kevlar or not, a shot in the right place … _and_ _we’re toast_.

“You okay?” Clinton asked softly as he and Kateri finished kitting up and were checking the tightness on each other’s vests.

Dark eyes met dark eyes, and Kateri gave a nod, which changed into a shrug, “The room was getting a little small, but being outside helps. I’m fine now.”

Clinton nodded, squeezed her shoulder gently with one hand, “Watch yourself tonight, kid.”

“You, too. Let’s endeavor not to give either of us more grey hairs.”

Her partner chuckled. _Success!_

* * *

The SWAT team rolled up soon after, which it meant it was go time. The team as well as the SWAT team took the elevators up to the fourteenth floor and then took the stairs the rest of the way up. _Elevators make noise, and they’re a potential kill box. Not a good combination with a crazy dude with lots of firepower and armor-piercing ammo as well as his unpredictable, loose cannon sister_.

The two teams had split into two groups, half going up the stairs at one end of the floor and the other half going up the stairs at the other end of the floor. The two teams reached the fifteenth floor at the exact same time in a coordinated assault and started clearing towards each other. The floor was dark, shadowed, lit only by emergency lighting and the piercing beams of the agents’ tac-lights. Evidence of fire damage was clearly visible with the plastic sheeting and plywood covering various parts of the hallway.

Kateri stayed at her partner’s hip as they moved down the hall in sync. There was a SWAT officer at her back and Barnes and Jess were just in front of her and Clinton. The scene was a familiar one and one she could do in her sleep. _Just don’t usually have to worry about armor-piercing ammo._

Despite her initial concern of how they were going to find Molly and Doug in time … _since they’re a whole lot of rooms to clear_ … once the team was actually on the floor, finding the two siblings was actually a whole lot easier than it sounded. _Just look for the room with lights and voices. They were not expecting company._

_Overconfidence has been the downfall of a whole lot of crooks._

The room the two siblings were using was a corner room with one entrance from the hall and one entrance from an adjoining room. The team split up again and breached the room through both doors. They were barely in time.

Kateri’s gaze swept the scene on instinct as the agents breached the room in a coordinated assault. Timmons and Molly were both present, as expected. Timmons was kneeling by one window, gun in hand, and several more assault rifles were lined up against the wall within easy reach.

_Bloody h**l, and God have mercy._

_All the makings of a massacre_.

Molly whirled at the noise and stepped in front of her brother, hands outstretched in a pose of supplication. “Stop,” she cried, “Don’t hurt him!”

Her act of interposing herself between the guns of the agents and her brother gave Doug, who was wearing his green Pocono Pines jersey, the few seconds he needed to put down his rifle and pull a handgun from his belt and put the gun to his head.

 _Bloody h**l_.

Kateri had no love for Doug or his sister, but … _it shouldn’t end like this_. There was no justice for the dead in Doug committing suicide or possibly suicide by cop. _If he doesn’t have the guts to pull the trigger himself, he could just turn it on us and with the risk there’s armor-piercing ammo in it …._

 _I hate the sight of brains_.

“Doug, don’t do it!” Jess called, “Talk to me.”

The team had the two siblings surrounded. There was no way out for them. The chase was over. There were two ways that this standoff for Molly and Doug was going to end and two ways only: with them captured or dead.

“It’s what you want right,” Timmons replied. _Even his voice … good grief … he looks off his rocker_. The boy looked disturbed. “All the government drones can have their party and you save the day?”

 _Sounds off his rocker, too!_ Despite Kateri’s shred of sympathy for the boy with his almost certainly untreated PTSS … this was just too much.

_You’re a cold-blooded murderer, but you’re also a disturbed kid who saw things and had to do things no kid should ever have to, and you went off the rails because of it._

_No, we don’t want to see you dead. You will end up dead if you give us no other choice, but we want you brought to justice_.

“What about the message?” Jess pressed, “If you die, the message dies, too!”

“That’s not true!” Molly snapped. Turning in a whirl to her brother, she added, “Don’t listen to him.”

 _Okay, make that two crazy, disturbed siblings_.

Kateri shifted her gun to cover Molly, instead of Doug. The boy appeared the greater threat because he looked … _well, physically more loony_ … and was the one with a gun in his head, but Molly obviously had a manipulative role in all this. _She could have a gun, too_. The threat you did not expect was almost always the greater threat. Molly looked physically unimposing and had no obvious weapons. _Doesn’t mean she’s not a threat_.

Jess shook his head, “It is true. The story will be, ‘Deranged Man Suicides at Casino.’ That’ll be it. End of story.”

“You’re totally wrong about that,” Doug tried to argue, as his sister nodded in agreement.

_And I thought my relationship with Billy was messed up at some points. Good grief and stars above!_

_Molly, Jess is trying to get your brother to not shoot himself in the head. Have you actually seen what brains actually look like splattered across a room?_

_Because it really isn’t pretty or something you want to remember for the rest of your probably long life._

“They love talking about school shootings,” Doug continued, his voice getting more and more emotional and louder and louder the more he spoke, “This is going to put Spencer and all the kids right back in the news.”

There was a long beat of silence, and then Jess turned to Kateri and the others, “Put your guns down. Everybody, put your guns down.”

_Have you lost your ever-livin’ mind, boss???!!!!_

Guns were lowered, though kept in hand. Kateri did what she was told, but the command only heightened the unease thrumming through her blood. She lowered her Glock only so much so that the barrel was pointed toward the floor half-way between her and Molly/Doug. _Only need an instant … so do they. Doug could still turn that on us_. Clinton had holstered his Glock, but his hand was still on his gun, and his weight was distributed so that he could spring forward in a moment if an opening arose.

 _That’s one definition of lower, Kenny_. Kenny had put his gun down … kinda … barely. _Makes me feel a little better_.

Jess holstered his gun and took a half-step forward, “Alright, tell me about Spencer. Give me the message.”

There was another long beat of silence, before Doug exploded, “The message is me taking myself out!!!!” He shouted.

_Bloody h**l!_

“Doug, give me the message,” Jess pressed.

Dealing with an unhinged suspect was so much more complicated. You had to press them enough to get through to them and get them to do what you wanted them to do, but not so much that you sent them over the edge … _more over the edge?_

“Hana, write this down,” Jess added, “That way we’ll get it right.”

Hana holstered her gun, pulled out her phone to write on, and then stepped fully behind the shelter of Kenny’s bulk. Though she wished he would pick a slightly less risky way of calming Doug, Kateri could finally see what Jess was aiming for. Doug had a deep, though misguided, concern for the kids “growing up in fear.” The plan seemed to be something to the effect of: get Doug distracted on the message for the kids; hopefully he’d then calm down; and maybe finally he’d lower the gun.

“No,” Molly tried to regain control of the situation, “Doug, he’s lying.”

_Your brother is trying to shoot himself in the head._

_We’re trying to stop him._

_What are you thinking? Do you really want him to die?_

Doug took several shuddering breaths. _Is he trying to work up the courage to shoot himself, or is he going to tell us the message?_ “I want to say something,” his voice was a little calmer now, “about thoughts and prayers for starters.”

“Thoughts and prayers,” Jess nodded, “What about them?”

_Finally, we’re getting somewhere._

“They don’t work! Okay,” Doug exclaimed, almost shouting again.

 _Kinda agree with him on that one_.

“Okay,” Jess nodded in full negotiator mode now.

“Thoughts and prayers didn’t help Spencer,” Doug was giving the message but getting more and more worked up at the same time. Kateri’s grip on her gun tightened a fraction. Emotional subjects, unstable subjects did stupid things and did so quickly. _Very quickly_.

“I’ll tell them that,” Jess assured Doug, “What else?”

“All of the shootings,” Doug continued, getting more and more into his subject, “are part of a big plan, okay? And you have to tell all the young people about the plan.”

_Which is what exactly?_

_He’s not saying anything new._

_Just keeps going round and round in circles._

“What’s the plan?” Asked Jess.

“The plan is to beat us down,” Doug shouted, “and turn us into slaves.”

_Seriously?_

“If the kids knew the truth,” Doug gestured angrily towards the window, towards the world outside that it represented, “They’d get off their knees and fight back.”

_Knew the truth or what you think is the truth? There’s a difference._

“You need to tell ‘em that, Doug,” Jess tried to press that specific point home, give Doug a reason to not pull that trigger, “not me.”

Molly broke in at that, “Please, Doug. You know what you have to do.”

_Here we go again._

_You’re disgusting_.

“You have the passion. You understand it,” Jess countered.

The tension in the room was building towards a breaking point. One way or the other, Kateri had a feeling that the standoff was almost over. She just hoped it didn’t end up with Doug’s brains splattered all over the glass.

“I have nothing,” Doug sobbed.

There was a long moment of silence, and the tension grew so thick one could almost cut it with a knife, so thick it was almost suffocating.

“That’s not what Spencer thought,” Jess said softly, his words carrying as clearly as if he’d shouted them in the quiet room. “He believed in you. He wanted you alive.”

Doug’s hand shook, and his face trembled. “I needed him,” he sobbed, voice shaking, “to stay alive.”

_Almost feel a little sorry for him._

“I know,” Jess had a way of sounding like he actually sympathized with and understood what the fugitives were going through. “He made you feel strong, and it hurts like h**l.”

Doug fisted one hand in his shaggy hair and turned away from the agents.

“Doug, you’ve spent your entire adult life trying to make sense out of a senseless act,” said Jess, “It’s a burden that the human heart is not built to carry.”

 _That’s for bloody sure._ Kateri agreed. A school shooting was one thing that, _thank God_ , she’d never had to face, but there had been a whole lot of other dark patches in her life. Kids weren’t made to see things like school shootings, as Doug had, or suffer physical abuse and the effects of racial and financial and social inequality, as many of her childhood friends had, that helped drive them down a dark path.

“Specially not the heart of a sixteen-year-old kid,” Jess finished, “You have a choice, Doug. Give yourself a chance. Put the gun down.”

Finally, the gun moved away from the boy’s head for an instant, but then Molly had to open her big mouth again.

“No,” she begged, and the gun moved back into line with the side of her brother's head, “Just do it! Truth bomb, Doug. Just like we talked about.”

_Truth bomb???????????_

_Come on, Doug. Don’t listen to her. Don’t listen to her._

_Listen to what the boss is saying._

Doug fisted one hand in his hair again, the other hand tightened on his gun. He gave a low animalistic groan of pain low in his throat.

“If you die in that jersey,” Molly was still running her mouth, trying to salvage the situation for their twisted plan, “you will be a hero,”— _no, you will be dead_. Her voice broke, “To all the kids who grew up in fear.”

 _She let that fear consume her, and now look how she ended up … All twisted inside_. Fear was an understandable emotion in the situation that had upended their lives, but fear left unchecked, just life grief, destroyed you from the inside.

“Don’t listen to her, Doug,” Jess shifted another step forward, getting uncomfortably close to Molly, which made Kateri very, very uneasy, “That’s your own fear talking.”

Molly whirled back, trying to counter point against point, “Doug, I love you. I want your life to mean something.”

_You love him. Bloody h**l._

_If that’s what you think love is … Your brother is threatening to shoot himself in the head, and you’re egging him on!_

Doug bent at the waist. He straightened up with a deep breath, his grip tightening, face a mask of determination. _Bloody h**l. This is it._ He’d finally worked up the courage to take the final step.

Jess, however, was going to have none of that. The room was too dark for Kateri to be able to tell what type of gun Doug had for sure, but she had noticed that it had an external hammer. Jess sprang forward without warning, and one hand caught the hammer, preventing the chain reaction that would fire the bullet, killing Doug.

With a twist of his hands, Jess had control of the gun, and Doug was now off balance, crying out in dismay. That was the opening Clinton had been waiting for, and he lunged forward, as well, covered by his partner and Kenny, and wrestled Doug to the ground, as Barnes grabbed Molly and pulled her back towards the door.

Doug screamed and sobbed as he was cuffed, “I’m sorry, Molly.”

“You blew it,” Molly sobbed, “You totally blew it.”

Molly was led from the room, and Doug was pulled up from the floor and also marched from the room, leaving the agents to gather around their boss. Kateri finally holstered her gun and consciously forced herself to relax.

_Everyone’s alive. I’ll count this a win._

“You alright, boss?” Kenny asked, pulling his comm from his ear to let it dangle on its cord, making Kateri suddenly realize that there was blood on the boss’ hand between the base of his thumb and the base of his fingers.

“I’ll need a stich or two,” Jess replied.

_And nobody’s even badly injured. Definitely a win!_

“Cool move, bro,” noted Clinton.

Jess snorted. “Secret service guy taught me that move a few years ago,” he said, wrapping a clean napkin that Barnes had brought him around his injured hand, “Didn’t tell me it was going to hurt like h**l.”

“We’ll find someone to kiss your boo-boo,” Hana joked. Everyone grinned.

“Thanks,” the boss said dryly.

Clinton turned towards the door, and Kateri followed him out, leaving Barnes and the boss alone in the room to talk.

By the time the team had gotten unkitted, finished everything that needed to be done, gotten Jess’ hand stitched up, gathered their belongings including from the bus, and reformed at the airport to fly home, it was almost 11pm, and everyone was physically and mentally exhausted after a long and trying case.

Despite the trigger to her claustrophobia a few hours before, Kateri was simply too tired to be that concerned about having to fly home in a small, pressurized metal tube with no exits. The main thing on her mind was sleep and bed and home. Once the plane got moving, it would only be an hour-and-a-quarter flight.

_But that’s definitely long enough for a cat-nap._

The team scattered to their various preferred seats on the plane while they waited for the pilot to finish his pre-takeoff checks and finish coordinating with the tower. Barnes and Jess sat down at one of the tables toward the back of the plane. It looked they had plans for work, not sleep. Hana curled up in a large chair that dwarfed her small frame. Kenny stretched out on one couch that was actually big enough for him to actually stretch out on, and Clinton and Kateri took the other couch. Slipping off her shoes, Kateri propped her feet up on the table between the couch and the other wall of the plane, leaned her head back, and soon fell asleep.

Hissed voices drew Kateri slowly back towards wakefulness. Two things become apparent through the fading fog of sleep. First, someone was saying something about “blackmail material,” and Clinton was taking umbrage, which meant that the situation probably somehow involved Kateri herself, since her partner probably wouldn’t have gotten involved otherwise. Second, somehow, she had shifted in her sleep or had been shifted, and her head was now resting on her partner’s shoulder, which explained the weight around her shoulders—an arm wrapped around her—which also explained the “blackmail material” comment.

Ending up asleep on her partner’s shoulder rarely happened, and Kateri never initiated the contact. _What is this, like time two, time three?_ She thought muzzily. Clinton never complained, and when it happened, she usually woke to an arm wrapped around her shoulders. _I’d never have the guts to tell him how much I like it_. There was the wispiest memory of her father reading to her when she was small while she was curled up against his side.

“Should I be worried?” Kateri asked in an undertone. _About blackmail …_

Clinton laughed silently so that all she could feel was the slightest shake in his shoulders. “No,” he replied quietly, “Just go back to sleep. I’ll wake you before it’s time to land.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next sidestory coming June 2.


End file.
